


(do you ever get the feeling) you're missing the mark

by luvloic



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Food Critic, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvloic/pseuds/luvloic
Summary: Written for Oh Lovely Day Fest Round 2 Prompt LD017Two customers come into Kyungsoo's restaurant and bring old memories with them.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Park Chanyeol, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20
Collections: Oh Lovely Day Fest Round 2 (2020)





	(do you ever get the feeling) you're missing the mark

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt LD017: One of them as a famous food critic and the other as a chef. Chef thinks the critic is cute and personally brings food out but critic thinks they know who they are and are trying to get a better review. For a 3/more: I’d love if the critic takes their s/o with them when they first try food and the chef thinks both of them are cute. (And then the rest of the stuff happens.)  
> Wants: Critic’s s/o being really flirty and the chef getting really flusters/shy. They talk after and all go on a date.
> 
> So first, thanks for being here, and second, I plan on writing a much longer second, if not third, part to this additionally. I really enjoyed writing, so please, enjoy!

Pots boil and pans flame beneath careful fingers. He pulls a frittata out of the oven while it’s steaming only to immediately lay the flame from a blow torch on it, lightly browning the top. Kyungsoo wipes the sweat beading on his forehead with the shoulder of his sleeve only to hear one his team mates, Jongin, yell his name from the front of the kitchen. 

“ _ Kyungsoo!”  _ Jongin is slightly out of breath when he gets to the back of the kitchen. 

Kyungsoo flips off the heat for a skillet on the stove, gently plating margarine basted scallops over a bed of risotto before dashing the fat of the leftover butter sauce across the white of the dish.

“Remember that order for the Scallop Risotto and a Lobster Frittata?” He says timidly. 

_ You mean what I’m finishing right now? _ Kyungsoo thinks. 

“It’s for a couple here, and I’m thinking they’re critics. I’m not sure, but I feel like I’ve seen them somewhere important.” Jongin admits, wringing his hands in front of the chef.

Kyungsoo sighs. “Okay. Thank you, Jongin.”

He couldn’t count how many times he’s been through this rodeo, especially with having opened his restaurant a couple weeks under two years ago now. Sometimes he smiles at the memories, but he’s grateful for the change.

Moreover, he remembers how hard those days were. 

In the beginning, not a single critic stepped in the joint. He was never even given a chance. No one was coming in, and the idea that he had flushed his life savings down the drain gave him nightmares for months. He was in a great bout of trouble, almost needing to fire some of the people who were still in this kitchen with him today as he fell deeper and deeper into debt back then.

His saving grace, though, was the waiter in front of him. 

Jongin’s journalist boyfriend, Oh Sehun, wasn’t a food critic in the least. Kyungsoo has a feeling that the young man secretly begged him to come in for dinner one night, but nevertheless that night, Kyungsoo can definitely say, changed his life. The journalist wrote for several newspapers and magazines. Nothing crazy big or popular, but Kyungsoo made sure to put his all into the dish that landed in front of that man, and it paid off big time.

The article Sehun published boasted of astounding flavors and delightful textures, smooth wines and delicate dishes that apparently he had “dreams about for weeks after.” 

Just like that, Kyungsoo was on the map. Customers began piling up and lining the block. It got so busy after that first article that they had to start a waiting list. It wasn’t overnight by any means, but word spread so fast that better known journalists and critics began drifting in spontaneously. 

The chef only grew with the pressure though.

He readjusts his menu. He brought in interior designers and stylists to make the place as beautiful as the food that came out of his kitchen. Most importantly though, he put his all into every plate of astounding food, every bowl of soup, every dish.

Before he knew it, he had a Michelin star on his back. Critics and food magazines everywhere bragged and boasted of the delicacies that were his meals, and the reservation-only line of people vying to get in only grew. Eventually, he stacked another Michelin star on the first, and by the end of his first year, he was owner of one of the top restaurants in the country.

He never forgot where he came from though. The struggles he faced, the team that got him here, they were all a part of his journey. Kyungsoo was fresh out of culinary school when he opened the place. He had apprenticed at various restaurants, but the most important was for one of the best chefs in the world. He came away with skills, goals, and knowledge that he  _ knew _ would help elevate his cooking into unmistakeable art. 

He came away with a love for food that was built on his love for the chef who taught it to him.

“He’s sitting at the back right table by the circular window.” Jongin says lightly. 

Kyungsoo wipes his hands on a towel in his waistband before tossing it in a bin in the back. “Well then I’ll just have to go meet them.” 

He starts walking towards the door, plates in hand, when Jongin paces quickly to grab him. 

“I should tell you that they asks for our finest Tempranillo. They also said to chill a bottle of Pinot Noir in case, which is already in the cooler.” Jongin whispers. 

Kyungsoo nods before patting the waiter on the shoulder and smiling at him briefly to leave.  _ Tempranillo, huh? At least they’ve got taste. _

He turns to Jongin. “Grab the 19 year Vega Sicilia from the glass cabinet and follow me. It should suffice.”  _ That  _ should be pretty damn fine _. _

Kyungsoo calmly strides to the back of the restaurant towards the critics table when he almost stumbles at the pair sitting there, a tall, pretty man making conversation while the shorter one with cat eyes giggles.

_ It’s Kim Minseok and Park Chanyeol.  _

♡

Back when Kyungsoo was twenty years old, he was sweating through a freshly pressed white dress shirt in the lobby of the highly renowned  _ Up In Flames  _ restaurant, the newest opened by arguably the best chef in the world, Kim Minseok. 

The young cook was still in his third year of school. In his temperature control class, he was busy zoning out watching his instructor pace back and forth in the front of the room when she said something that made him snap back to reality. His ears perked at the sound of an internship with the nation’s top chef, and he thought  _ surely not. _

__ It was a competition. 

The mission was to create the best soufflé they possibly could in a single ninety minute period during their next class.

The prize was an interview at the newest restaurant opened by the world famous chef. 

Kyungsoo studied for it for almost all of the forty eight hours that separated the two periods. He made soufflés at home as a kid with his grandmother when he was a kid, and then his mother when she passed. It was easy to recall the recipe, and even easier to perfect it. He even studied online to make sure he would be utilizing the period, looking up the best times, temperatures, and methods of creating that perfect egg. 

Turns out, it paid off. 

In class, the fluffy egg mixture had risen perfectly, lightly browning on top just as it was supposed to, which left his instructor amazed. 

“ _ Wow!  _ Kyungsoo, you’ve really outdone yourself!” She gestured at the decadent plating and presentation before pulling a fresh spoon from her apron and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Time to taste!”

He remembers holding his breath too as her spoon cut through the foam of the top. Exquisite. Just as planned.

She closed her eyes at the taste, and placed the spoon on his station. “Simply exquisite, truly fantastic, and  _ very _ well done!” She lightly clapped before moving on. 

Seven classmates and a batch of botched soufflés later, he was announced in first place, and his spot in the interview was secured. With ease.

So here he was, ironed shirt sticking to his back from his long walk to the restaurant from the bus stop and hair neatly combs back into place in the guest bathroom ( _ There was a restroom for non-customers..?  _ Kyungsoo had raised his brows at the idea _ )  _ with nothing but a pen and his resume in hand. He was nervous as well, which probably didn’t help the whole sweating ordeal, but the idea of meeting  _ the  _ Kim Minseok was making him wring his hands. 

What even would the interview be? A test? A challenge? He doubted it was just a normal job interview merely because of how intense Mr. Kim was in everything he’s done. He was on epic television cooking shows, has published several cook books, heck, he’s even cooked for some of the top executives in the world from various presidents to major celebrities. 

Kyungsoo shook his head. He was only making himself more nervous. His career could be at stake in however many minutes before he made those dreaded steps to the back room… whatever was back there. 

Then, just as he finally shook himself free from his nerves, a woman stepped through a heavy-looking wooden door in a pencil skirt with her hair in a tight knot. 

“Mr. Doh?” She looked directly at him, despite the other people waiting in the lobby as well. He nodded. “Please follow me.” 

She held the door until he met her at the threshold, turning on her toe to start clicking down the hallway in her heels. They passed through the service area and then the dining room and several offshoots for more private dining before stopping in front of a metal door with a hole in the middle near the top of the doorway. 

“Before you go in, do you have any questions or concerns for me?” She asked, her face neutral.

Kyungsoo slightly smiled and shook his head. 

“Okay then. He’s in there when you’re ready.”

Kyungsoo’s heart dropped to his stomach.  _ He’s what now. _

“H-Here?” He tried  _ so  _ hard not to sound scared, but thinking back, he definitely failed. “He’s here right now?”

“Yeah, he’s behind that door.” She pointed with a polished fingernail. “He likes personally interviewing applicants.” 

He’s been in the same building as Kim Minseok for a little bit over an hour now.  _ Wow. _

“Thanks.” He let out a shaky breath before nodding at her and pushing the door open.

The sight that greeted him was a fairly short man leaning on one of many stainless steel counters in the pristine kitchen. It was glistening in low light with the natural light pouring in from the massive side windows, and it smells like… absolutely nothing. Maybe a light floral note, but essentially just a completely clean kitchen.  _ So no cooking. _

There was also an immense overwhelming feeling of being outdone. Immediately. It was like he walked into a losing battle, but there were no signs of contest, no red flags that scared him into want to flee. This man was just largely out of his league.

No, instead Kyungsoo stood stock still in the kitchen just embracing the feeling of being in this man’s presence while it lasted.

The man in front of him was even shorter than him, which wasn’t really saying much since he was  _ average sized _ , but he can’t say he expects it. He looked taller in the shows and on the covers of magazines, but he still has those cat eyes that just… demand attention. He was dressed in black slacks and as expected, an impeccably spotless white apron. His hip was cocked out, his black hair swept off of his forehead with gel, and his chin was resting on one fist as his new applicant walked through the door. 

“Welcome.” Minseok said, standing to lean over and put a hand out to shake. “I’m Kim Minseok as you probably already know. Please introduce yourself.” 

He gestured to the stool on the other side of the counter that somehow Kyungsoo missed in his once over of the room. Kyungsoo smiled a tight lipped, closed mouth smile before hastily walking forward to shake his hand.  _ Wow. Am I really shaking Kim Minseok’s hand right now? _

“Doh Kyungsoo. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.” Kyungsoo said, struggling to shake the rapidly returning nerves thrumming through his bones. 

It was hard enough knowing that potentially his career was sitting in the palms of this man’s hands, but for him to be unrealistically handsome too? It was almost lethal how pinned in place Kyungsoo felt just being in his presence. He was fine standing outside the door and then  _ boom,  _ he’s a nervous wreck.  __

“And how are you today, Mr. Doh?” Minseok said in somewhat of a lilting tone. _ Seems mischievous. _

“I’m doing pretty well, and yourself? Also, you’re welcome to call me Kyungsoo if you prefer, Mr. Kim.” Kyungsoo said. He’s sure if he had an audio recording of what his voice sounded like, it’d be uncontrollably shaky, but he couldn’t help it at this point. At least he was trying.

And then the man in front of him…  _ giggles?  _ It was a little too fast and light to be chuckling, and not quite spaced out enough to be laughing. But  _ giggling?  _

He was absolutely  _ adorable. _

“Sure, Kyungsoo it is then.  _ You  _ are welcome to call me Minseok. No formalities. It makes me feel old.” Minseok said, smiling. “And my day is going pretty fantastic as well. I love meeting new people.” He leaned in and whispered behind a small, manicured hand, “Especially when they’re handsome.” 

Kyungsoo swore he didn’t blush, but remembers Minseok chuckling at his reaction. 

“Well, to get on with the interview, I’m just going to ask you a series of questions.” Kim Minseok was looking him dead-on. There’s not even a piece of paper in front of him. He’s just sitting there, now with his hands interlaced in front of him. “Is that alright?”

“Of course.” Kyungsoo nodded.

“Alright then. First off, what’s your favorite song?” He said it so nonchalantly that it threw Kyungsoo off guard.  _ Song? _

He pondered for a moment before settling. 

“It changes often, but at the time it’s ‘Hurts Like Heaven’ by Coldplay.” Kyungsoo also remembers considering asking why, but figures that the answer didn’t really matter. 

Minseok’s eyebrows raised. “That’s an interesting choice.” He said. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything and they sit in silence for almost an uncomfortable amount of time, Kyungsoo’s shoulders stiff with nerves and his leg bouncing on his stool.

“Second question. Why?” 

Kyungsoo almost laughed this time. Out of all the questions to ask in this remarkably high stress situation, he couldn’t have possibly imagined he’d be discussing Chris Martin’s consonances. 

“Uh… well, I really like the flow from the ending notes of the prior track, ‘Mylo Xyloto,’ into ‘Hurts Like Heaven’ mainly, but the lyrics ‘Do you ever get the feeling you’re missing the mark?’ make me smile.” He smiled at the melody sparkling in his mind. “Oh, and of course the chorus is lovely, but I feel like the whole song is a mini diary entry of sorts. It sounds so nostalgically euphoric that it makes me remember someone I can’t quite recall all the details of.”

The smile that Kyungsoo gets in return is almost fond, so he directs his eyes to the counter under his hands- gleaming and unmarked. 

“What’s your favorite and least favorite dishes to prepare?” Minseok asked.

Easy. “Least favorite is Baumkuchen because of the time. I’ve admittedly never been satisfactorily successful making one. Favorite dishes are definitely a very solid Beef Wellington or just Sundubu-jjigae (soft tofu stew) if well made in either case. Both are oddly comforting to me, and since my mother used to make stew all the time, it’s a warm memory.

“I hadn’t had a Wellington until I traveled Europe for a short amount of time in high school, but I quickly figured out if the steak is too large, it’s ruined for me.” Kyungsoo finishes. He chuckled at the memory of having to leave the plate startlingly unfinished. What a time.

Minseok laughed, nodding. “I could never get behind Beef Wellingtons. The ratio of beef to puff pastry always threw me off quite a bit.” He added. 

“But if the ratio isn’t too steep, it’s excellent! I promise.” Kyungsoo said eagerly.

“Then you’ll just have to make me one someday.” 

Somehow, those words shifted the mood in the room dramatically. 

One second they were laughing, the next Minseok had him pinned with a smile very closely resembling a smirk (but he refuses to believe  _ Kim Minseok _ would really be  _ smirking _ at him). It was so unreal that looking back on it, it sounded like a fever dream. It sounded like it didn’t happen at all, a mere figment of his imagination. 

But in the moment, the hard, uncomfortable steel of the stool beneath him wasn’t bothering him at all. The shirt sticking to his back was gone and so was his leg that wouldn’t stop its shaking. Nothing was there except him and Minseok, and he felt like a fish out of water. 

“S-sure.” He stuttered breathily. His heart was beating so loud. It was thumping like a drum and caught in his throat.

He was was in over his head, but it probably seemed fine from the outside looking in. It felt like there should’ve been red flags, a magnificent sounding alarm going off in his head or  _ something _ , but instead there was nothing. 

_ It was just the kindness _ , Kyungsoo told himself despite the fondness in Minseok’s eyes grounded the younger chef, rather than letting him fly high in the possibility that there was something more to this interaction. 

And of course, as all good things come to an end, the moment shatters with yet another question. 

“Last question. Why do you cook?” Minseok asked. His expression was unreadable.

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raised. Well that was fairly simple as well.

“Because I love it. I vy for the challenge, and I love how much goes into creating different variations of food. The love, the care, and the time that is sacrificed for a perfect meal is irreplaceable.” 

Minseok grinned brightly, and stuck out a hand for him to shake again.

“Congratulations, you got the position.”

And as Kyungsoo went to shake his hand again, the chef pulled him into a hug. His eyes widened and watered, but he just lightly wrapped his arms around the smaller chef until he pulled back. 

Minseok stepped back and gestured around. “Welcome to my kitchen, Chef.”

♡

Kyungsoo wears his nicest smile while walking to the table he was personally bringing the plates out for tonight. He takes a deep breath. Minseok looks as stunning as he remembers, the same beautiful smile gracing his face and light in his eyes like the last time Kyungsoo saw him three years ago. 

Sitting on the other side of the round, white cloth covers table is the nation’s most valus food critic, Park Chanyeol. He was the famous grandson of one of the most widely known chefs worldwide, his grandmother. She was popular for using local ingredients wherever she went to make dishes that so closely resembles the homey, warmth that comes from only your mother’s cooking. When she dis, it was a global tragedy with the world grieving the loss of such an awe-inspiring chef. 

Unfortunately, her daughter didn’t share her love for food nor cooking. However, when her daughter gave birth to a son, he was drawn to food and cooking all throughout childhood. He grew up in his grandmother’s kitchen, taste-testing for her, kneading dough, and running around her as she spun beauty out of the threads of ingredients hiding in her cabinets. 

It was only natural that when he grew up, Chanyeol would end up being fascinated by cuisine and continue his grandmother’s legacy in the form of searching for that same quality her cooking held in his critiques. 

Despite all of this, Kyungsoo’s never had the pleasure of meeting the critic before. His only vague connection to the other is from his old mentor and friend. He remembers how surprised he was when he and Minseok were announced as a couple. He was remarkably handsome and tall. 

Word was he usually showed up to critiques with slicks, black comma hair and a dark gray pinstripe suit (that only made his legs look longer), but the man in front of him was wearing a nice black button down with khaki slacks. Very handsome.  _ No wonder Minseok was dating him. _

When they were first found out, they were plastered across the fronts of probably every newspaper in the country for a good month at least. “ _ MASTER CHEF SCANDAL?”  _ or  _ “CRITIC AND COOK SEEN TOGETHER”  _ or other variations of much the same thing were blown up in headlines, and before the public even saw it coming, there were what were thought to be engagement rings on their entwined fingers.

Interviewers begged for information on their relationship and if they were getting married, but they stayed silent on the matter, insisting it was truly none of the public’s business. He remembers admiring them for standing by their decision as well, never revealing anything for the press to rip into shreds as they did. Instead, they carried on with their lives as they were before Dispatch found them as just a chef and a critic.

Which, he presumes, is why they were now before him. 

He sets the plates in his hand on the table, and smiles brightly as Mr. Park greets him. Jongin hurriedly places the bottle in the middle of the table along with two glasses before fleeing. 

“Good evening. I assume you’re the famous Doh Kyungsoo, correct?” He says in that baritone voice of his, a suspicious look in his eyes. Minseok rolls his eyes at him.

“Yes, sir. Welcome. How are you gentlemen tonight?” He tries to dodge Minseok’s gaze in hopes of slipping by unnoticed, but apparently that’s asking too much. 

“Excellent. Long time no see, Kyungsoo.” Minseok purrs. 

Kyungsoo freezes. He looks nervously at Mr. Park and then back at Minseok who has  _ way  _ too much of something in his eyes that he hasn’t seen for the past three years. Mr. Park is looking at Minseok with a look of vague surprise. 

_ What the fuck.  _

“Um… Hello, Mr. Kim. How have you been?” Kyungsoo says, not really sure what the best way to react is. 

The air between the three gentlemen is so tense, he could’ve cut it with a knife. Kyungsoo looks back at Mr. Park, and his face holds no malignance, only interest. Meanwhile, Minseok’s eyes are like lasers burning into the side of his face.

“Oh, don’t bother with the formalities. We’re friends are we not?” Minseok laughs lightly under his breath. 

Kyungsoo nods uncertainly. It’s like he’s twenty all over again. 

“I’ve been great. I’m even better now.” Minseok leans on a palm, much like he did all those years ago, and looks up directly at Kyungsoo’s face. Then, he perks up. “I’m sorry, have you two met?” 

“We haven’t.” Mr. Park cuts in. “You seem to know each other very well, though.”

“My bad! Chanyeol dear, this is, as you already know, Doh Kyungsoo. He worked in one of my restaurants a few years ago.” He says, gesturing to the chef. “And Kyungsoo, this is my boyfriend Park Chanyeol.”  _ Ah, so they were only boyfriends. _

The tall man smiles, and his teeth shine like he’s an idol or something. He sticks out a hand. 

_ Damn, he’s handsome. _

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Park.” Kyungsoo says with a smile.

“Please, call me Chanyeol! I’ve heard a lot about you.” Chanyeol says, nodding his head as they shake hands. 

Kyungsoo’s gaze snaps to Minseok again. “You have?” 

He laughs a deep, charming laugh. “Yeah, Minnie wouldn’t shut up about you or your food.”  _ Minnie? _

Minseok’s laughter tinkles through the air. He leans over and lightly smacks Chanyeol’s shoulder. 

“Oh, you stop it.” He says. He looks at Kyungsoo. “He’s being dramatic.”

Chanyeol shook a finger at his partner, “Oh, no I’m not! He practically dragged me here! He’s been begging to come for far too long.” 

Both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol watch as Minseok just shrugs. 

“Don’t blame me! Just look at him!” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen and he tries to contain the blush that erupts across his cheeks. “I can’t help myself.” Minseok says dreamily as he sinks his chin back into his palm.

Kyungsoo chances a look at Chanyeol only to find him rolling his eyes. 

Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo. “As you can tell, he’s a big fan.” 

“I’m honored.” Kyungsoo chuckles and grabs the bottle of wine by its neck. “Tempranillo?” 

Chanyeol grins, and both he and Minseok say, “Sounds wonderful!” at the same time.

♡

Before Kyungsoo was thrown into the daily routine that came with working at one of Minseok’s restaurants, he had to train up to the head chef’s standards. After he was done, he heard stories from other team mates that they just had to train with an older team mate, but Minseok insisted on training Kyungsoo himself. 

He taught him everything. They began with small things like the importance in order- keeping things clean and separate were crucial to keeping a healthy, pristine kitchen. 

“ _ Nothing _ good comes out of a dirty kitchen.” Minseok said. “Dirty kitchens are for rats, not art. Hospitals are sterile for a reason, and my food, well, any dish that goes through those doors,” he paused and pointed at the metal entrance, “might as well be my child. Metaphorically of course, but still.” 

Kyungsoo tried to hold in his laughter. Minseok’s eyes snapped to him.

“I’m serious!” Minseok argued, punching his shoulder. 

Kyungsoo opens his mouth, letting out his laughter as Minseok insists beside him. 

“Okay maybe it was a little bit of a poor comparison, but I am serious when I say there’s a purpose to cleanliness. When you become a hot shot chef, you can choose how clean and orderly you want your kitchen, but until then, everything we put in front of people is on  _ my  _ head.” Minseok said, leaning close to slide a finger under Kyungsoo’s chin and forcing him to meet his eyes. 

Kyungsoo gulped, all the laughter gone in a matter of seconds.

“Got it?” Minseok confirmed.

“Got it.” Kyungsoo said.

The training only progressed to be more and more difficult as the days passed. He was told he had a strict seven days to master all the skills Minseok had taught him, and that if they weren’t mastered, not only would the rest of the kitchen be able to tell, but he would be dismissed. 

And dismissal, quite frankly wasn’t an option. Thus, when Kyungsoo went home each night, he brought whatever supplies he’d need in order to practice everything that he was shown that day. Not only did he practice these skills until the restaurant closed near midnight nightly with the entire staff moving around him, never sparing him a glance, but he managed a minimum additional two hours in his shitty cramped apartment.

He could’ve easily made a list from the easiest to hardest of the nights, since slicing easily topped the list. Minseok showed him how easy it was to make identical, fast slices, dices, and cuts with just a few varied movements of his knife, but it didn’t change the fact that speed was essential.

Kyungsoo was the first to admit that it was intense. It was hard and left him aching undoubtedly, but Minseok always there right next to him. He was always cutting with him or urging him on, giving him advice or sometimes, just watching him. 

“Thinner. Julienning starts thinnest to largest so you use up the vegetable for all it can provide, but remember-”

“The slices need to be as identical as possible.” Kyungsoo finished his sentence, a smile dancing across his lips. He curled his fingers in tighter, pinching the bell pepper as he cut. “Is this thin enough?”

Minseok reached in front of him and snatched a matchstick of green. “Perfect.” 

Kyungsoo’s then surprised when Minseok holds it up to his lips. 

“What?” The apprentice said.

“Try it. Make sure it’s good.” The head chef replies. “Always make sure the ingredients you’re using taste the way you need them to.” 

Kyungsoo put down the knife and turned his body. He opened his mouth, and Minseok slid the green pepper onto his tongue. The chef was watching intently as the boy’s mouth closed, and Minseok let his thumb swipe a drop off water from his bottom lip.

His hand dropped, but he’s still watching Kyungsoo’s mouth before his eyes flicked up to the taller’s. “Good?”

“Yes, sir.” Kyungsoo answered.

Despite the intensity of a kitchen he’d never experienced before, and the pace with which they all needed to work in order to cohesively flow, Kyungsoo winning the internship was one of the best things that could’ve happened to him for many reasons. 

First of all, he was welcomed into the kitchen almost immediately. They were a family and welcomed him like he was one of their own. He made companions he’d never completely lose. They were with him through thick and thin: chopping, stirring, slicing, and dicing everything in the hectic swirl that came with working in one of the nation’s best kitchens along with all the other cooks. 

Secondly, he got to see Minseok in action as a head chef. It’s an experience that couldn’t be replicated anywhere else, and seeing him there working side by side with the cooks he gave swift commands and checks on continually whilst in the middle of completing tasks of his own… it was amazing. Minseok was there right beside them as well, putting in his own elbow grease into turning out the art that were his dishes. He flames pans of searing ingredients and flies around the kitchen like it’s only natural for him. It’s nothing short of beautiful. 

_ He  _ is nothing short of beautiful. 

Most importantly though, he learns what it really meant to be a chef. In between steaming pots and pans, seven other people work under Minseok as well as him, and somehow the head chef always made time to check in with each of them every night. Their crew work together every single day, most of them easily clocking over eight hours daily for six days a week between unloading the produce truck, prepping for each day, cooking, and then cleaning at the end of the night. 

It was highly regimented, and once school was out for the summer for Kyungsoo, it was in a sense therapeutic. And despite the continuous work that never let him leave without waking up sore, it proves to be worth it again and again. From Minseok murmuring praise over his shoulder to his skills gradually improving even more, if Kyungsoo had the option to do it all over again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

Every day brought the same carefully planned chaos as the night before, and Minseok was just the Moses guiding them through the storm. 

♡

With their glasses of Tempranillo poured and the two gentlemen not even pouncing on the food he’s just brought, Kyungsoo is stuck just standing there while they prepare to eat.

The critic sips his wine, eyes widening in surprise as he says, “This is fantastic! What year?” 

“2001, sir.” Kyungsoo answers. “It’s Vega Sicilia, imports from Sicily.” 

Minseok watches the two before piping in, gesturing to the plates. “What did you bring us?” 

“I have Basts Scallops over Parmesan Risotto,” Chanyeol raises his hand, indicating it was his. “And a Lobster Frittata as requests.” Kyungsoo finishes, placing the other dish in front of Minseok. 

“It looks lovely, as expects.” Minseok says, smiling up at him. “Thank you.” 

When Kyungsoo looks to Chanyeol again, he’s already taken a bite. He groans at the taste. “I lied earlier.  _ This  _ is fantastic.” 

Kyungsoo wasn’t really expecting them to eat in front of him with Chanyeol being a critic and all, but then Minseok moans to his right as well.

“Kyungsoo, this is  _ phenomenal!”  _ Minseok joins in. He points his spoon at Chanyeol, “I  _ told  _ you he was amazing!” 

The chef looks around nervously to see if anyone else is hearing them being questionably loud in their little corner until Minseok pulls on his sleeve. 

“The texture is perfect! I haven’t had this good of a frittata in too long.” He says excitedly. 

Kyungsoo chuckles. “Thank you, Minseok. I’m glad you like it.”

“While this is amazing,” Chanyeol pauses, looking at him with squints eyes. “I know your type. Are you just here to get a better review?” 

Minseok laughs. “Dear, he doesn’t even nes to bother trying for a  _ better  _ review! His presence wouldn’t change how outright  _ astounding _ the flavors are.” 

“Fair enough.” Chanyeol smiles as he takes another bite. He leans across the table, looking at his partner dead in the eyes. “It almost, dare I say, tastes like my  _ grandmother’s _ cooking.” 

Minseok gasps. 

Kyungsoo’s heart stops. 

Chanyeol continues. “It has a flare of course. There are spices and a level of zest I can’t quite pin to any of her dishes as I remember them, but the style, the  _ warmth _ is much the same.” He says definitively. 

The chef lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you for such a deep compliment, sir.” He says.

“If it means more, he doesn’t say that about my cooking.” Minseok chimes in. “But, he’s right. It truly is otherworldly. Thank you, Kyungsoo.”

“Yes, thank you Kyungsoo. It’s delightful.” Chanyeol says, smiling up at him.  _ Is that a tear in his eye? _

“No problem at all, thank you so much for coming. Is there anything else I can bring you?” Kyungsoo says, looking between the two who shake their heads. “Then I’ll leave you to your meal. Enjoy!” 

He begins to walk away as Minseok says, “Wait!” 

Kyungsoo turns. “You should… you should join us, ‘Soo.” Minseok says quietly. His eyebrows raise. He hasn’t heard that nickname in so long. 

“I can’t. You of all people should know what it’s like to run a kitchen.” Kyungsoo replies. “We close in…” He checks the watch on his wrist. “An hour and a half from now. Until then, I have a team to help.” He says with a smile. 

♡

One night in the middle of June, it was sprinkling outside. The cement behind the restaurant was slick, so when Kyungsoo was taking out the trash, he slipped. It was an accident, we all make them, but before he knew it he was laying on the ground, and he could barely move. 

What made it worse was that it was an extremely busy night. The dining rooms were packed, and the restaurant itself was noisy beyond belief with drunk customers laughing at the top of their lungs and the pianist drowning out whatever sounds might come from the kitchen. Knowing all of this, there was no reason for Kyungsoo to even scream for help. 

In other words, he was stuck. 

He couldn’t really tell how much time had passed with the trash bag that was sitting helplessly some fifteen feet from his face. He worked up to wiggling his fingers and toes to assure no major spinal issues, and then slowly tried to sit up when pain sparked up his back. He winced but pushed through the pain, his back burning like no other. 

Just then, Minseok’s shoes came slapping at the wet pavement. “Kyungsoo!” 

Kyungsoo turned his head and seethed as another spark races from his neck down his back. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” Minseok said, racing to squat in front of him. 

“I just slipped. I’ll be fine, but my-” He leaned forward more to start getting up and grimaces. “Back hurts.” 

Minseok’s hands fly to his shoulders to still him. “Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy! Should I take you to the hospital? How bad does it hurt?” 

Kyungsoo tried not to get flustered at the idea of the older chef fussing over him like he actually  _ cared  _ about him, and instead focused trying to get up. 

“Really, I should be okay. No hospital, it doesn’t hurt all that bad. I promise it looks worse than it is,” He said. He went to pull his legs up underneath him and inhaled sharply. 

Suddenly delicate fingers were swiping hair from his forehead, and Minseok’s other hand reached up to hold his face, his thumb swiping across a scratch on his cheek. Kyungsoo winced again. 

“You’re not okay Kyungsoo.” Minseok murmured. “You’re all scraped up, you’ve got bruises everywhere already, and you can barely sit forward.” He frowned.

Minseok’s wide eyes are scanning Kyungsoo’s, panicked as he lightly turned and checked his face.

Kyungsoo tried to keep his cheeks from coloring under his attention, but it’s rather hard when he’s looking at him like  _ that. _

“I’ll be fine, I swear.” Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “How did you even find me anyway? Don’t you have a full dining room right now?” 

“A raft with holes in it doesn’t float.” Minseok said. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get my car.” 

Five minutes later brought Minseok’s  _ way too nice  _ car right up next to him, his lights flashing in the rain still pattering across the ground.

“Minseok, I was serious when I said I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Kyungsoo warned as Minseok squatted, looping Kyungsoo’s arm around his shoulder and his own behind Kyungsoo’s back. 

Minseok laughed under his breath. “I’m not taking you to the hospital. I’m taking you home.” 

“Wel-Wait! Do you have my keys? My stuff?” Kyungsoo asked, jerking his head to look at him.

“You don’t need them.” Minseok said, grinning as he shuts the passenger side door.

The interior of the head chef’s car is all smooth leather and backlit buttons staring back at Kyungsoo as they glide through the street. He looked over at Minseok who has on hand steering on the top of the wheel and the other on the gear shift.  _ What a sight. _

Minseok’s eyes caught him staring in his peripheral. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Kyungsoo snapped his eyes away, watching the road disappear past them.

When Minseok parks his car, they were in the garage of some apartment complex in Gangnam. Kyungsoo looks at him, the green of the parking garage lights illuminating the contour of his face.

“Why are we-” 

“You didn’t want to go to the hospital, and there’s no one at your place to watch you.” Minseok said. “So we’re at my place.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched his lips at they move, the shadow of his jawline making his mouth go dry. 

Minseok catches him again. 

“What are you looking at?” He said, bringing fingers to wipe at his mouth. 

He went to check himself in the rearview, so Kyungsoo reached up and grabbed his chin with a shaky hand, thumbing at nothing to the right of his mouth. 

“Got it.” He breathed.

Minseok let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thanks.” Minseok whispered, eyes on Kyungsoo’s lips.

“No problem.” His lips wrap around the words, and Minseok is utterly entranced. 

Then, Minseok leaned forward, a hand reaching up to caress the boy’s cheek while waiting for a sign from Kyungsoo. A breath, a lean, a touch,  _ something  _ that would pull Minseok closer, urge him not to stop. 

He gets that in the form of Kyungsoo’s other hand reaching up to hold his face between shaky palms. 

So he leaned forward across those mere mile long inches over the center consol and met his lips in a kiss that warms Kyungsoo through the rain dampening his shirt and sticking his hair to his forehead. Minseok’s thumb stroked his cheek in the front seat of his car.  _ Finally. _

♡

After a busy night and couple after couple begin to filter out of the restaurant, the team begins cleaning up. Throwing things out, wiping down counters, combing through the ever-so-high stack of dishes, and then finally mopping the floors after everything has been shut off, shut down, and locked up. Kyungsoo cleans his restaurant with his team like a good chef does. 

So when they’re all done at the end of the night, everyone else heading out before him, Kyungsoo sees a note waiting for him on the hostess stand. The rest of the restaurant is already dark, so the white of the paper in the glare from the last remaining light on overhead shines brightly. It’s a small piece of paper, a little thinner than a business card, and s scribbled on in blue pen.

_ The meal was wonderful. You’ll hear from us soon!  _

_ x Park Chanyeol and Kim Minseok _

Just as he’s beginning to smile down at the small piece of hope? promise? in his hand, a light knock on the glass door behind him scares the shit out of him.

_ No, it couldn- _

Minseok pulls the door open, Chanyeol looming behind him. 

“I was wondering if I could get that Beef Wellington?” Minseok says lightly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are heavily appreciated! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, or anything in between (♡˙︶˙♡) have a great day!
> 
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/xiuwusoo)


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